


Dearest of Friends

by stepOnMeZenos



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Ambiguous Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Clueless Zenos yae Galvus, Extremely Vague Final Fantasy XIV Spoilers, Gen, Holidays, Letters, Starlight Celebration 2020 (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28261617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepOnMeZenos/pseuds/stepOnMeZenos
Summary: There's a curious letter among the mail the Warrior of Light receives for this year's Starlight Celebration.
Relationships: Zenos yae Galvus & Warrior of Light
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27





	Dearest of Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Starlight Day!

“One last letter arrived earlier,“ Baenfaeld said. 

The Warrior of Light looked up from the festive garlands he'd been taking off the trees. The Starlight Festival was winding to a close, and _someone_ had to clean it all up. True to form, that someone had ended up being him. 

Letters had continued to come in during the festival period, but at this point, he hadn't expected any more of them. Still, who was he to blame people for not getting to things on time? The Twelve knew _he_ was often too busy to keep track of non-essential business. 

He sliced open the envelope offered to him and unfolded the letter within. 

_'My dear friend, my enemy,'_ the first line read. The Warrior of Light stared. There was only one person who would address him as such. For some reason, the first thought that popped into his head was _I didn't think his handwriting would be so neat..._

_'It has been far too long since last I laid eyes on you, and much as it pains me to write, we must remain separated for now. My plans are in motion, and I would not ruin our chance at a glorious reprise by giving in to my longing. Do forgive me my absence, my friend. Know that I would come to you in a heartbeat, if I could._

_However, when I recalled that it is the season of Starlight in Eorzea, I could not resist writing to you. I have heard of this so-called “holiday cheer“ and though I am not entirely clear on what it entails, I would like to share it with you—through my words, if nothing else. Would that I could do more! I hear that the Eorzeans bestow upon each other presents on Starlight Day, however, it would prove quite tricky to do this under present circumstances. I shall endeavour to make up for it in the future.'_

Well, if that wasn't deeply ominous, if weirdly touching. 

_'But enough with the complaints. Little though I may know about it, surely this cannot be “in the spirit of the season“, as the encyclopædia on Eorzean customs I consulted phrased it. Are you well, my friend? Have you found suitable sport to keep your senses sharp in my absence? I do not know the details of your trials in that other world you have found your way into. You must tell me all of it; every blow, every kill, every moment that made your blood sing in exhilaration. Would that I could have witnessed it, nay, would that I could have _faced_ what you did. How wonderful that would have been…_

_I digress. Forgive me. Speaking to you—writing to you, even—, I find myself beset with the urge to ramble._

_The bitter winter cold is all but besieging Garlemald at this time of year. I have nonetheless attempted to replicate certain Eorzean traditions in order to understand what this Starlight Celebration is about. I am, of course, familiar with making snow sculptures; it is an ever common pastime among Garleans, though moreso for the lower classes. I have tried it as a child, and found no appeal in it. As an adult, I felt no different; however, I persevered and have fashioned your likeness within the imperial court. I have attached a sketch for you to see for yourself...'_

So he had. The Warrior of Light pulled the sheet out from behind the letter. It was a remarkable sketch, and if true to real life it had been a remarkable sculpture as well. Zenos showed himself a man of unexpected talents. 

_'I have also taken the liberty to throw snowballs at my subordinate. He did not seem to appreciate it much. I for one think it would be more entertaining if I were to wrap snow around stones, or perhaps metal spheres. Mayhap I shall try that next, after finishing this letter._

_I wonder what you do to pass the time. Do these pastimes I have read about pique your interest at all? Do you ignore them, and the people engaging in them, in favour of greater pursuits? 'Tis curious that I find myself thinking about these matters. I have not felt this manner of interest in another person before, outside of whether they could face me on the battlefield… but you, you are different in ways I discover anew with each passing day._

_I owe you much and more, my friend. Though my present predicament inflicts me with boredom, I have felt alive because of you and I will do so again in the near future. Purpose, fulfillment… all those things I have felt, because of you. It seems appropriate to consider these matters. Is it not the season to reflect upon one's blessings? I declare thus that _you_ are the sole blessing in my life, and I intend to repay you for that a thousandfold. _

_Time is running short on my end, now. I must needs attend to certain matters, and I have run out of words, anyroad. Thus, I end this letter. I hope I was able to convey my feelings—words shall ever fail to capture the essence of what we are to one another, but it is all I can do for now._

_Until we meet again, my friend._

_Zenos'_

The signature was written with a flourish that seemed very unlike Zenos. The Warrior of Light would have expected him to have a messy scrawl, out of a lack of caring for how it looked. Apparently, he had been wrong. 

The responsible approach would be to hand this letter over to the Scions, so that they could analyse it for hidden hints, little things Zenos might have let slip that could help them figure out just what his plans were… on the other hand, he really didn't want to. It was a nice letter. Weird as it had been to receive it, he'd enjoyed reading it. He'd enjoy _re_ reading it as well, and he couldn't do that if he just gave it away. 

So he pocketed it. 

Where was the harm in it, after all?

**Author's Note:**

> Comments appreciated.


End file.
